


Until Tomorrow

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [31]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, KNBxNBA, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:50:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9664220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 2/11: You might be feeling very communicative today, Aquarius. Concentration, logical thinking, and a heightened ability to put ideas into words enhance your own communicative abilities. Therefore, your gift of getting directly to the point in any matter is likely to clear previously clogged channels, impress others, and increase your self-confidence.(KNBxNBA universe)





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.
> 
> thanks so much to everyone who's read even one of these fics! it really means a lot to me <3

They only get to play each other four times a season, and it’s never enough. It wasn’t enough the year Taiga was injured and missed the all-star game, either; it’s not enough when Taiga’s got a day off in between playing the Nets and playing the Knicks and they can spend most of the day together like today. It’s impossible to cram everything they want to do into such a small amount of hours, and they’ve long since stopped trying and started just enjoying each other’s company (not that it’s always easy when there’s so much Tatsuya wants to do and say in person and it’s months until the next time they’ll meet).  
  
It’s easy enough to hang out around here without being recognized; a lot of people right near where he lives know who he is but outside of that radius of a few blocks he can still remain relatively anonymous with the right slouch and the right outfit. Taiga’s a little harder; he’s bigger and altogether more distinctive-looking at first glance (the hair, the eyebrows) but if he wears a hat low enough over his eyes and doesn’t shave he’s more likely to get a “you-look-like-someone” comment than anyone putting two and two together. And when it’s this cold and the trees are bare no one’s hanging out in the park, anyway; they can take a walk and stop at the bodega for sandwiches and stare at the river from a bench and feel like they have the whole damn place to themselves (minus the dog-walkers and runners and the parade of cars below, but relatively speaking). Tatsuya can lean his head on Taiga’s shoulder and Taiga can knock their knees together and give Taiga half of his sandwich because he can already hear the team nutritionist yelling at him (Taiga’s metabolism has not slowed down at all since they were kids; he can still pour empty calories into his stomach and never feel full or have his body suffer).  
  
The thing about the city is that everything’s so close together; the possibilities are limitless—hang out at a bar a few blocks away, walk across the bridge and take the train in to the east side, do nothing and stay here.  
  
“What do you want to do?” says Tatsuya.  
  
Taiga shrugs and smiles at him, dazzlingly bright (unfair) in the weak winter sun.  
  
“Downtown?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
The bridge is quiet; some cars and buses pass them on their way across but not many, even considering that this is the middle of the day on a Tuesday. It’s not a terribly romantic locale, but the day is pretty. Halfway across, they turn back to look at Manhattan, the red towers of the projects and the bend in the river even farther north.  
  
“I want to take a picture,” says Taiga.  
  
He gets enough of the bridge and the island in their frame, but presses his face against Tatsuya’s (his cheek is cold). It’s a good picture; they both look happy. They both are happy; even if the circumstances aren’t what they’d necessarily choose they’re still every bit as good as Tatsuya had ever imagined. They’re both playing pro basketball, at the highest level possible; they’re in the same conference and both of their teams are competitive; they’ve both had good health for as long as they’ve been in the league. And they’re together—in different cities and different time zones, on different schedules, yes, but they still always have time for each other (and they have the offseason, but that feels like a different world).  
  
They sit squashed against each other on the train even though it’s half-empty and there’s space right next to them, Taiga’s arm draped over the back of the seat behind him, casual enough that they could be anything. He’s texted the picture of the two of them to Alex; she sends a reply they only get once they’re halfway up the stairs to the outside world again. It’s full of various smiling emojis.  
  
They stop at a store neither of them shops at, mostly to go through clothes and critique them under their breaths until it gets obvious that they’re not buying anything and the salespeople start to pointedly ask if they may be of any assistance, and then they find another store until they’re tired and hungry and it’s later than they’d thought it was.  
  
They walk back to the west side through the park. There aren’t any basketball courts right around here (a travesty if you ask Tatsuya, and the reason why he’s never going to move here despite the fantastic views). Taiga knows what he’s thinking, following his gaze to the fields and trees and half-melted dirty snowbanks. The back of his hand brushes the back of Tatsuya’s; Tatsuya hooks his pinky around Taiga’s before Taiga moves it back. He looks over, and Taiga’s eyes are so warm they melt Tatsuya’s breath before it gets to his lips.  
  
“Tomorrow night,” says Taiga.  
  
“Tomorrow night,” Tatsuya repeats.  
  
Right now it seems simultaneously far over the horizon and close enough that it’s already hitting them in the face, but if this is what stretches out their time together Tatsuya will take it.  
  
They stop for coffee and go back to Tatsuya’s apartment to make dinner, broiled fish with rice and steamed vegetables. It’s easy but still gives them room to work together, to watch for everything to be ready and just be together, for Tatsuya to re-memorize the shape of Taiga’s jaw and the exact tone of his voice when he pulls Tatsuya in for a kiss (as if he could ever forget those in the first place, but just in case) and the tan line on his neck from the chain, still faintly visible this far from the summer they’d spent back home. This is the last time they’re scheduled to play each other this year; if they do at all it’ll be in the playoffs and both of their teams are in the middle of the pack right now. Conference finals would be the best, but there’s no guarantee that’s how it’ll line up, no guarantee either of them will make it that far. But that’s the goal, and neither of them is going to let it go easily.  
  
They shouldn’t think that far ahead, though, not when they have tomorrow night’s game to play and certainly not when they’ve got each other, right here and right now.


End file.
